Coffin's Promise

 I see the leaves changing but I cannot escape; 

This night every hour I dream bullets in my brain. 

To be alone a vast alone 

I simply dream away, 

Wanting to dig a six foot hole head-first, hence the dirt I came. 

With time and memory, in a sickness that I live 

I hate to love and I can't feel, 

What my mind says what I should feel. 

A should is a would and could, 

A bagged-up box of what if?

If art I can't perform, then this life I don't want to live. 

Too sad to wake up and climb those stairs 

I put my piss down in a well. 

Surrounded by doubt and all about, I'm screaming "Just kill yourself." 

I can't look into a mirror, my reflection makes me hurl, 

Too much effort and energy, 

I think these manic days won't falter. 

This land was a land of words 

Dauntless in its fodder 

this dirt I walk, in my thought, is my coffin's promise. 

To sleep and dream, I drown at night, 

In the mud of a creeping river. 

My writing sucks, my dreams are fucked. 

I am the frigid Winter.